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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659317">The Countess &amp; The Magician</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/06Munin/pseuds/Trevellyan'>Trevellyan (06Munin)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Countess &amp; The Magician [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Arcana (Visual Novel)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Comedy, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kissing, Mild Language, Nudity, Romance, The Ship of Theseus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:20:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24659317</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/06Munin/pseuds/Trevellyan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Emrys Trevellyan, royal magician and partner to the Countess, has just learned of his death three years ago. Alone on the veranda with Nadia, he questions whether he is really himself anymore.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Countess &amp; The Magician [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. You only live twice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>[[A/N: this is the first piece I wrote for The Arcana and will be part of a series of one shot interactions between Nadia and Emrys as their relationship post-canon continues. It was inspired by a discussion started by a discord server member named El Sauce who posed the question of 'how would your MC react to learning about their death?' I hope you enjoy!]]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nadia’s hand was a welcome presence on my cheek and the warmth I felt as she drew closer centered me. All at once it was as if two versions of myself were fighting for dominance within my mind. They had been since we returned from the Lazaret. The person I had become over the last three years, and the person I was before I…</p><p>“I died, Nadia,” I say as I reach up to join my hand in hers, my voice barely above a whisper. Our fingers lace together and I’m reminded how right it’s always felt. Like when the stars designed our hands they were part of the same pattern, always meant to align. I hold onto that feeling. “For twenty-four years of my life I was someone else entirely. I hated poetry. I loved sweets. I barely read books and spent most of my day sharpening daggers and swords behind the counter at work. I was a hunter. I preferred solitude. I was a lot of things...but I wasn’t *me*. Not the me I’ve been.”</p><p>My eyes finally raise to meet hers. Even in the dim candle light of the veranda, they still shine like brilliant garnets. I can tell there is a twinge of worry knitted in her brow. Of fear. It was as if I could read the thoughts of her mind in the shifting of her expression. Would this be our last night together? Did I still love her? Who was I now? The me she knows or the me from before? Some combination of the two? But no sooner than those worries found their way into the statuesque angles of her face were they gone. My Nadia. Always ready with a strong face for when the occasion required it. “Darling…” she reaches her other hand to my other cheek and softly runs a thumb over the arched bone. “I’ve no idea what to say to bring you peace. I can’t imagine…” she shakes her head, “My heart breaks that I’d not done something more for you back then. And I know it’s not fair of me to say this but...I would be remiss if I didn’t, not to mention dishonest, and I…” she leans forward and my eyes drop to the rouge of her full lips. Instinctually my mouth parts to meet hers, as it has countless times before, but she hesitates. “I loved you then, Emrys,” her voice is a whisper, her lips phantom touches against my own. “Before you went to the Lazaret. As I did every day you were gone. As I do now. It was why our hearts connected so quickly when we were reunited. Why I came to you that night and why I stole that first kiss on the bridge. At least it was for me. I knew, Emrys. Before I came to your door at your shop that night I knew I was looking for you. The moment I saw your face it was is if my heart had found its other half--” she pulled back slightly, as if realizing her words were poorly chosen. “I love you, Emrys Trevellyan. No matter whether you like poetry or don’t. Whether you’re a...mountain man or my royal magician. None of those things make you who you are.”</p><p>The memory of fire fills my nose with the scent of ash and smoke. My skin feels like it’s been lit ablaze beneath my masquerade costume. I remember the spectre we saw in the Lazaret. The ghost of my dying body, stained red with the cruel mark of the plague. It wasn’t me, but...it was, in a sense. A shambling vessel, waiting for its turn in the furnace, to be purified of the plague by an emotionless flame. The me from before is still on that island. I’m in its soil. In its sand. My bones and ash the substance of its foundation and the dry, tasteless food for the circling vultures above. Nadia must realize that I’ve gone somewhere else, I can see her expression through the fog of my memory, patient and waiting for my return. I close my eyes and blink away the Lazaret and its foreboding red sky. The sound of the music and din of the partygoers below returns to the edges of my senses and my sight is filled with nothing but Nadia. I give her an apologetic smile. </p><p>“Emrys...if aught has changed, and these memories of your past lead your heart somewhere away from mine,” she smiles at me, in a way that only Nadia can. That brave, impenetrable smile of a Countess that has to weather every storm because *someone* has to. “I will understand. If you would allow me, I would welcome the chance to win it back again, and give you all of the space and time you needed until you were ready for me to. But if not, I would understand that as well.”</p><p>For the briefest of moments, my thoughts wander to considering her offer. I would take Lysinger and ride to the Southern Spines. Search and see if any Clans have taken the place of my own in the hunt for the things that haunt the south. I could revive the clan, if not. Travel the villages and find any bounty hunters or mercenaries who would be willing to take up the cause. Continue my family’s tradition. One look into her eyes, though, and all of that consideration brings an unbearable ache to my heart. If it’s true, and it’s not my heart that beats within my chest...then it’s because I’ve already given it to her. I feel Nadia’s hands begin to slide away from my cheeks, as if taking the first steps to grant me the space that she promised, but I shake my head and reach to keep them there. </p><p>“No,” I say, my voice still a whisper; silent so my words are for Nadia alone. “No, Nadia...the last thing I could possibly want is to be further from you than I was for the last three years. There are so many things I remember now...and I’m sure that I’ll remember more as the days go by. Honestly there’s not a lot I’m sure about anymore, but I *am* sure about this--no matter where I go, no matter what I do, whether it’s return to the shop or to the south or to another life entirely, my heart would never be home unless it was with yours.” I’m the one to close the distance between us now. I release her hands to cup the smooth edges of her jaw. “No matter who I was or who I am...I’m me when I’m with you.”</p><p>My lips hover at the corner of her mouth and I taste the drop of a single tear. She leans her forehead into mine and sighs as if an Atlassian weight was lifted from her shoulders. “Are you sure?” she asks, her voice half a relieved chuckle half a sob. “You don’t want to galivant away with Asra on some mysterious magical quest you magicians always go on?”</p><p>I lean back so that our eyes can meet. The candle light dances in the space between her lashes. “I may be the magician, Nadia...but you’re the only thing magical here.”</p><p>I lean forward but before I can make my way to her Nadia meets me halfway and our lips collide in a passionate exchange of relief and happiness and understanding. The warmth of her breath as we gasp for air breathes a confidence into me that I didn’t have. Her sweet scent of honey and jasmine replaces the memory of ash and her touch cools every inch of my skin as a shiver runs down my spine. Her tongue traces my upper lip, removing the taste of sadness and replacing it with one I--</p><p>“YYYYYYESSS!” a voice shouts from behind us.</p><p>Nadia and I both practically jump into the other world at the sudden exclamation. Our limbs become tangled around one another and it takes a joint effort between the Countess and I to keep from toppling over. Our gazes scan the veranda for the source of the noise and pause upon a particularly pleased looking Portia.</p><p>“Ugh, I was so worried something *bad* was gonna happen!” she says as she plops down in an empty chair and begins fanning herself with her mask. “Emrys locked in his room all day brooding over whatever it is he broods about and you, Milady, pacing in every room. Did you know you walked to the guest wing eight times before you went to get dressed for the Masquerade?”</p><p>Nadia’s mouth hung open, aghast. We exchange looks before turning to the Countess’s head servant. “I...Portia today was--”</p><p>“--*NINE* times, sorry. I lost count. It was so much pacing! You guys were stressing me out so much that I literally had to prep Asra and Ilya to talk sense into both of you before you did something silly like...I dunno, ride Lysinger back south and become a monster hunting man again or something.” Portia’s eyes widen as she says this and I can almost see the image of a lightbulb going on above her head. “Ohhhhh shoot, I better find Ilya. I dunno what he was planning, Emrys, but it involved rope, a gallon of peanut butter, and peacock feathers.” She jumps up from the chair she had fallen into, carefully straightened it back into place, hiked up her dress, and ran back down the stairs. “Bye glad you two are still in love!”</p><p>Nadia and I are frozen, watching Portia’s exit of the veranda. We stand in silence for what felt like ages, arms wrapped around each other. Finally, we both find the will to look away from the mental replay of the scene and to each other. The moment our eyes meet we both explode into laughter and lean into each other. My hands find her waist and hers my shoulders to keep ourselves from stumbling. </p><p>“I really was a mess wasn’t I?” Nadia asks between fits of laughter.</p><p>My laughs are silent and breathless, but my shoulders shake with each one. I can already feel a soreness in my cheeks. “Do I really brood that much?”</p><p>“Darling, you do,” Nadia coos as she smooths out one of my cheeks. “You are ever so broody. Even your laugh is stoic.” She leans forward and kisses me at each of the corners of my mouth and once again in the center. We hold the kiss for a long moment, letting our nerves settle together. “But I do so love it when you’re broody. You get this look that just makes me--”</p><p>The doors to the veranda burst open with a loud crash, sending Nadia and I tumbling over onto the long, velvet cushioned couch. Julian stands there, arms akimbo, eye glaring at me through the raven mask that adorns his booze flushed face. In one arm he holds a bundle of hempen rope and in the other a jar of what looks to be peanut butter. “I can’t believe it’s come to this, Emrys but you leave me no choice. The Doctor is in and he’s come to prescribe you some common sense!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Like your life depends on it</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After a long night of meetings, the Countess and her magician enjoy sleeping in. Between pillow talk and gentle touches they devise a plan to help the poor and destitute former denizens of the flooded district.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[[A/N: Part 2 of The Countess &amp; The Magician series. Each entry is a stand alone tale plucked from their lives post-canon. I hope you enjoy!]]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunlight breaks through the curtains and I find myself in the unusual predicament of waking up well after dawn. Nadia had had a long, stressful night of meeting with numerous contractors bidding to take over the reconstruction of the flooded district. Using my magic to suss out which ones were being honest and which ones had ulterior motives was exhausting, but no more exhausting than Nadia having to navigate the politics of what risks were worth taking if it meant that some of our citizens had homes again. ‘Our’ citizens, I think as I lose my gaze into the lavender canopy above the bed. When had I started thinking of it that way?</p><p>My gaze drops to my right and I see the shape of her. She’s fast asleep, blanket pulled up over her head as she’s sometimes wont to do when the sun rises before she does. Her tyrian hair, normally kept in a careful tail as we sleep, has been loosened from its bindings and splays out around her like rays of a purple sun. I find myself absent mindedly twirling a lock of it around my finger, but release it in hopes I don’t wake her or disturb her.</p><p>“No, no,” she says, voice muffled by her makeshift curtains, keeping the sun at bay. “Keep doing that. I love the feeling of you running your hands through my hair.”</p><p>“Have you been awake long?” I ask her, threading my fair toned fingers through her seemingly endless locks. She makes a low noise of contentment when my fingertips reach her scalp. </p><p>“For a few hours now,” she says, pulling the blanket just far enough down that her scarlet eyes can search my face as I work. </p><p>“I’m surprised you didn’t get started early,” I say as I let my fingertips climb up the back of her head to the tune of a long, relaxed sigh. </p><p>The blanket inches further down her face, so elegant and beautiful even as she lies wrapped in a cocoon of sheets. “You just looked so peaceful, darling. And you sleep so lightly, I couldn’t bear to wake you.”</p><p>She reaches a single lithe arm from beneath the covers to rest her hand against my chest, right above the strange rhythm of my heart. Heat rises in my cheeks and I find it hard to hold her gaze. “Well...if you needed the extra rest,” I say, losing my attention in the silk mane that hangs around her. I trace a crooked finger down her cheek, against the hair that still hangs there and she leans into the touch. </p><p>“I think we both needed it,” she says with a breathy sigh. She lets her hand fall from my chest to the hand I’ve propped myself up with and laces her fingers between mine. “It’s not every day you’re up past midnight playing babysitter to a cadre of adults.”</p><p>I laugh my silent, breathy laugh before weaving my fingers back through her hair again. “That’s true, I suppose.”</p><p>“Besides…” she says as she runs a thumb over my hand, lightly tracing the faded scars whose paths she’s memorized. “When was the last time we had a moment to just...breathe like this? Before the Masquerade?” </p><p>“That sounds about right.” I watch her touch navigate my hunter’s hands, each swoop and curve sending a wave of goosebumps over my arm. She smiles, noticing the effect she’s having on me, and continues. “How are you feeling, though?” I ask. “There’s a lot of tension in your shoulders.”</p><p>She looks at me dubiously. “You’re not even touching my shoulders, how would you know that?”</p><p>My lips form the the ghost of a smile as I run a hand over the bare skin of her upper arm. “Because I know you.”</p><p>She savors my lingering touch for a moment before promptly rolling over onto her chest and scooting the blankets down her back. “Well if you’re going to use your witchcraft to divine the tension in my shoulders the least you could do is help rid me of it.” I see her mischievous smile as I look away from her bare skin with all the bashfulness of a young man. “Oh come now, love. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”</p><p>I laugh, a sheepish attempt, and nod, turning back to her prone form. Doing as my lady bids, I rise to my knees and sidle up next to her. “True,” I say as I begin to trace the shapes of her shoulder blades with the heels of my palms, her skin more smooth than the silk sheets we’re wrapped in. I watch her eyes flutter closed and a smile linger on her lips. “Though...you didn’t answer my question,” I continue, “How are you feeling?”</p><p>“Oh…” she sighs, and for a moment I feel as if more tension is building beneath my touch. “All of that back and forth for hours and hours with hardly any traction. I’d never dreamed we’d have this hard of a time. How’re we to rebuild what was lost if *none* of the local contractors are willing to compromise? I feel as if I’m dealing with the Courtiers all over again.”</p><p>“It *did* feel hauntingly familiar,” I agree as I run my hands from the small of her back up to the nape of her neck. I’m sure the court masseuse would do a better job than I could ever hope to, but I won’t suggest it just to be rebuffed again. Besides...I’m growing more comfortable with moments like this, where touch doesn’t seem like such a scary thing. I catch her gaze looking up at me through the veil of her hair and feel her reading my expression, knowing each of my thoughts as I think them. She seems satisfied when I redouble my efforts against the tension in her muscles. “You know a thought occurred to me last night before we went to sleep,” I say, gaining her attention once more. “A lot of the people affected by the flooded district were trade workers. Carpenters, stonemasons, smiths. It may be worth putting out a call to the people themselves rather than looking for an established company.”</p><p>I feel her muscles move beneath my fingers and before I know it she’s flipped around to lie on her back with a suddenness I hadn’t expected. “And it would provide them with work!” She says, energized. “Guaranteed work for--oh come now, Emrys, you needn’t look away--but guaranteed work for quite a while. Employment that they must sorely need.”</p><p>Her confidence once again outshines my bashfulness and I return my gaze to her, finding the garnets of her eyes which are each alight with the fire she gets when she has an idea. “We could make them official employees of the palace. Establish an architecture branch!” She continues, her gaze darting back and forth as if drafting the plan in the space between us. “It may not be much, but we could even find some way to provide room and board for the workers and their families.”</p><p>I can’t help but smile when I see her like this. The passion in her voice and in her smile are infectious. “Are you thinking of Lucio's old wing?”</p><p>“That’s precisely what I’m thinking,” she says with a vigorous nod. “There are so many rooms that have gone unused for so long, and now that we’ve no more spectral goats traipsing the halls at every hour of the day we could put them to better use. Emrys, you beautiful genius!” Before I know it she’s rising from under the covers and throwing her arms around my neck. The surprise of it nearly sends us toppling back over but I manage to hold us upright and return the embrace. I feel her fingertips trace the curves of the muscles in my back as if she’s plotting a course on a map. “I love you, you know that?”</p><p>“Nadia,” I laugh silently into the crook of her neck. “I love you, too, but that...that was all you. I just suggested looking to the people for workers. *You* are the genius. And the one that’s going to make a whole lot of lives a whole lot better.”</p><p>“No, darling, that’s just it,” she says, leaning back from me. She takes my face in her hands and kisses me as if to say ‘Oh, Emrys…’. She combs my bangs out of my eyes with a pass of a hand and shakes her head. “The thing about us being a team is...we do these things together. Sometimes it’s *you* that has the seed of an idea. Sometimes it’s *me*. But it always takes both of us to make it grow.”</p><p>A warm smile crosses my feat--</p><p>She slaps me firmly on the butt. “So take credit with me, darling. You are my *partner*, after all, are you not?”</p><p>I take a moment to rub the impact spot for a moment, attempting to massage away the sting. “Okay,” I say finally, my words coming out through a smile. “Okay. It was both of us.”</p><p>“Yes,” she says, tapping me on the chin. “Yes it was.” We hold each other for a moment, close enough that our warmth joins together but far enough away so that our eyes can mirror looks of unbridled affection. I see her gaze flick over my shoulder momentarily and I follow it to the clockwork chronometer on the wall. “Goodness, it’s almost noon. We have a meeting with the contractors, if you recall, so we’ll have to start practicing our ‘we’re no longer interested’ speeches. But...until then,” she walks the tips of her nails from the ridges of my stomach up to my chin and punctuates the action with a coy curl at the corner of her lips. “You’re going to kiss me like your life depends on it.”</p><p>I’m only allowed a brief, brief moment to acknowledge her request before I feel her arms wrap around the back of my neck and pull us both back down into the sea of purple sheets and lavender bedspreads. Her lips are soft and warm, as they always are, and I kiss her like my life depends on it.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Whisking, pumpkin bread, and the fine art of throwing food</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Emrys attempts to teach Nadia how to cook. Chaos ensues.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[[A/N: Part 3 of The Countess &amp; The Magician. Another day in the life of the pair as their lives progress, seeking out some semblance of normalcy in the wake of The Devil's plot. I hope you enjoy!]]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Alright, and then…like this?”</p><p>I watch as Nadia takes the wooden spoon into the filling mix and begins to stir it as if it were a simmering soup. A smile breaks on my lips and I shake my head. “For this part you whisk it.”</p><p>It had taken a lot of convincing to get the palace kitchen staff to take the afternoon off. Being Royal Magician didn’t mean much to a sous-chef with that had been making pumpkin bread since ‘before I was born’, but eventually even they relented and gave me the run of the place.</p><p>“Whisking. Yes. Right. And that’s where you….” Nadia looks hesitantly over her shoulder at me and tightens the waist band of her apron a little tighter. My smile lingers as I push off of the counter and take up a spot behind her. “Like this.” I take Nadia’s hand in mine and go through the motions of whisking the mix. I see her attention focused on the task at hand, but she doesn’t waste the opportunity to lean into me if only for just a moment. “Mm. You smell nice, darling,” she says. “Is that…honey I smell?”</p><p>I feel my face flush and she takes my silence as an admission of guilt, causing her to chuckle and nearly drop the spoon. “Sorry,” I say, unable to hide my bashfulness. “I…may have used some of your shampoo this morning.”</p><p>“Oh it’s quite alright. What’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine, after all. Although…” she glances over her shoulder at me with *that* look in her eyes. “you *could* have asked for my help, you know?”</p><p>“You were still sleeping,” I say as she leans against me one more, surrendering her weight onto my chest. “I didn’t want to wake you.”</p><p>“If it’s to spend a few moments admiring the marble sculpture that is my partner I would *gladly* lose a bit of sleep.”</p><p>I rest my forehead against the back of her tyrian mane and hide my smile there. I feel half embarrassed half bashful and somehow another half sorry I hadn’t woken her. I feel comfortable around her now. It a new feeling. I like it. They honey scent of her hair fills my lungs as I inhale to speak—but pause before noticing that, somehow, I was the only one holding the spoon now doing the whisking. “Nice try, Nadia,” I say as I pull the spoon back to her. “Come on, let’s see if you’ve got it down.”</p><p>“Ohh…” she says in frustration, “I thought I had you there.”</p><p>“You almost did.” I kiss the top of her head. “Maybe next time.”</p><p>“Alright alright. Stand back then and watch a new professional at work. Why it’s a good thing the kitchen staff was dismissed because perish the thought of them seeing me outdo them at their own—” Nadia begins to whisk the mixture in large, powerful swoops of the spoon. Much too large and powerful. It only takes a handful of rotations of the spoon before a small wave of bread filling explodes from the rim of the bowl and splatters all over her apron. Her arms are suspended in the air, in the universal stance of ‘I can’t believe this just happened to me’.</p><p>I can’t help it. Seeing her frozen in a state of disbelief, dripping bread filling onto the pristine floor, I burst out in a fit of silent laughter. “The idea is to keep the mix *in* the bowl, Nadia,” I say between laughs. Nadia turns around to look at me, jaw agape, in complete disbelief that I’m laughing at her expense. </p><p>“Oh…*in* the bowl?” she says in mock confusion as she wipes nearly a handful of the filling off of her apron. “Oh I’m so sorry, master chef, I didn’t realize that. So what you’re saying is, it shouldn’t go over—” Before I can realize what’s happening, a wad of filling is flying across the kitchen to hit me square in my face. “—there?”</p><p>My laughter doesn’t stop so much as it turns into a surprised chuckle. I wipe my forearm across my eyes, clearing away the flavoured filling enough to see the Countess standing there, looking particularly pleased with herself. I open my mouth to speak, but for the moment words escape me.</p><p>“What’s that? You think that I, a Princess of Prakra, Countess of Vesuvia, chosen of the High Priestess, would be *above* throwing food at her lover?” She scoops another spoonful into the wooden utensil and flicks it towards me, sending another batch of sweet filling to splash against my chest. “Well you would be *wrong*, darling.”</p><p>“Is that so?” I ask, laugh gone but smile still fully on my lips to the point that a soreness is already rising in my cheeks. “Well…consider my lesson learned. I won’t underestimate you again.” I tuck my hands behind me and search for the bowl of prepared bread mix. I make contact with something ceramic and I dip my hand down to my wrist in the mixture.</p><p>“Hm,” she says with theatrical triumph. “Good. I would be disappointed if my trusted royal magician were to—”</p><p>I pull my now filling laden hand from the bowl and swing it in front of me, hitting an unsuspecting Nadia right in the brow. Pumpkin bread mix trickles down her face in a thick, sticky, sweet sheet and I watch her long lashes blink against it.</p><p>“Ah-I can’t believe you just did that!”</p><p>“I said I wouldn’t underestimate you,” I say, holding up my mix covered hands. “I never said I would stop.”</p><p>Nadia sets a hand against her still mixture stained chest and laughs heartily. “You cheeky little man,” she says. “I will crush you into oblivion for this betrayal. And don’t even *think* about running—there’s nowhere you can hide from me in the palace.”</p><p>I shrug my hands out wide, beginning to back away from my custard covered countess, preparing for my tactical retreat. “Well…I suppose you’d have to catch me first before I believe you.”</p><p>“Ohhhh Emrys, darling it is—oh how does Julian say it? It is *on*!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Caught</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nadia and Emrys take shelter in the kitchen larder--a much needed reprieve from the chaos of Masquerade preparations. It's also the first time they've been alone together since this madness all started...</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[[A/N: Part 4 of The Countess &amp; The Magician. I'm still really new to writing fanfiction, but I enjoyed working on this one a lot. Not much to say here other than there's some mild spicy content between the Countess and her lover Magician. I hope you enjoy!]]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nadia closes the larder door behind us and we both practically collapse in relief.</p><p>“I thought we’d never be rid of them,” Nadia says, her voice a stage whisper. “I know it’s the night before the Masquerade but *really* is it *too* much to ask that the ones we’ve hired do their *own* jobs?” I can’t help but laugh soundlessly. “Has anyone seen the Countess?!” we both hear shouted in the distance. “The Peacock Wrangler has lost the Peacocks again!”</p><p>“If you find her, tell her that the Crepe maker has their stand too close to mine!”</p><p>“Oh yeah, well if you find her tell her the Fudge maker has their stand too close to my crepes!”</p><p>“SOMEONE SET THE FOUNTAIN ON FIRE!”</p><p>“Can her magician pull rabbits out of hats or do that infinity scarf thing?? We need someone to entertain the children of the guests!”</p><p>“No,” I say immediately, our eyes meeting in the dark. “Anything but that.”</p><p>Nadia clamps both of her hands to muffle her laugh and buries her forehead into the crook of my neck. “Oh, darling, but you would positively be a *hit*. Are you sure? Not just one rabbit?”</p><p>“No, no no no, I am *terrible* with kids.”</p><p>“Oh, I don’t believe that,” she says, leaning back so that our eyes can meet in the near darkness. “You would be a wonderful father.”</p><p>You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed.</p><p>“Not that I’ve been considering that or that *you* should be considering that as part of our relationship, just that…in *general*, as far as fathers go, you would make a good on—oh don’t look at me like that.”</p><p>“How can you even see my expression?” I ask, tilting my head. “it’s pitch dark in here.”</p><p>“You’re doing that thing where you raise your one eyebrow.” She plants a fingertip beneath my curved eyebrow and I see the faint light dance across the gloss of her lips as it turns into a smile. “See?”</p><p>“Portia, have you seen Emrys?” I hear Asra’s voice shout from across the kitchen. “I have a new batch of teas for him to try, but I can’t seem to find him.”</p><p>“Hm? No, but join the club! Looks like *everyone* is trying to find him and Nadia. I wonder where they got off to…”</p><p>“ASRA!” I hear Julian’s voice exclaim over the end of Portia’s words. “Where’s ye olde Embo, I need to get his opinion on which tie is better, the black or the red.”</p><p>“Go with the red,” Asra says confidently.</p><p>“Asra, you’re wearing half the colours in the colour spectrum, I think I’ll get my advice from the guy that only wears one. EMRYS??? EMRYS! ITS AN EMERGENCY!”</p><p>“…the red was fine,” I hear a deep, gravely voice say as Julian marches off.</p><p>Asra sighs his trademark sigh and I hear him and Muriel wander off, continuing their search.</p><p>“No more tea,” I whisper into Nadia’s hair. “I’ve had so much tea today I won’t be able to sleep for a week."</p><p>”*Really*?” Nadia asks me with mock surprise. “A whole week? Well…whatever shall we do to keep you entertained then?”</p><p>I feel her move against me and push me back into a shelf, sending a few loaves of bread tumbling to the ground. My heartbeat immediately quickens to a galloping hammer in my throat. I don’t have to see her expression to know the look in her eyes. Just the thought of it sends a tremor through my body. She places a kiss at the edge of my jaw, and then another on my neck. My breath hitches and I feel her lips smile against my skin. Her hands slip beneath the lapels of my jacket, tracing up from my ribs to my chest and to my shoulders. She pushes my jacket down my arms, both frozen at my sides, and lets it fall to the ground in a pile of leather, steel, and chain. I feel her begin to trail kisses further down my neck, pushing the thin fabric of my tunic aside so that it begins to slide down my shoulder and give her access to the skin there. “I can think of a few things,” she says, her warm breath shuddering with a small, confident laugh. She passes a hand up my stomach until her fingers find the chain of the emerald necklace she gave me on my first night in the palace and I’m suddenly aware of where each link of it rests against me. Her fingers twine around the metal and pull, tilting my head down into her shoulder. “Kiss me.”</p><p>For a second I feel as if I must be losing my mind. All rational thought has left me, or I would have been suggesting we take this elsewhere, not in the public larder, where, at any moment, someone could walk in and see us. But Nadia doesn’t seem to care and everything about her touch makes me want to follow her command. And so I kiss her, pressing my lips into the exposed, soft skin of her clavicle, each one more desperate as if afraid that if I stop she might disappear. I feel her hand reach up into my hair and take hold of it, pulling against it tightly, while at the same time pulling down harder on the chain. My teeth brush against the raised bone and I hear her take in a sharp inhale of breath. For a moment I wonder if I’ve hurt her, but before I can ask she releases the chain and my hair and begins pulling at the fabric of my tunic. I don’t fight it, moving my arms to help her as she pulls it from my body, removing another layer of fabric between us. Her body crashes against mine again and I feel her nails dig into the skin of my chest.</p><p>Suddenly, I hear a noise above us. Something rustling in the space at the top of the cabinet. Nadia and I immediately separate and turn to look at the source. With a swirl of my hand a ball of blue light spins out of my palm and shines up into the ceiling. A purple, scaled head pops out of the hole in the middle of a bagel.</p><p>“…..Faust?”</p><p>“Found a friend!”</p><p>Faust leaps from the basket she’s been hiding in. It’s not the first time she’s dropped from a high place to come hang around my neck like a scarf, but in the darkness she misjudges the distance and instead slaps against my chest.</p><p>“Help!” she exclaims as she squirms to grab purchase. I try to douse the light so I can take hold of her and bring her to my chest but I only manage to juggle her wriggling body. Just when I think I’m about to drop her, though, I feel the tip of her tail that’s been slapping at my stomach catch the hem of my trousers. She stiffens up….and immediately slides through the waist of my pants and down the leg. “Uh oh!”</p><p>“Faust what are you doing?!” Nadia exclaims as she looks once, looks twice, bites her lip, considers, and then plunges her arm down the waist of my pants, her hand grasping for Faust’s tail. The suddenness of it all sends me back into the bread cabinet, tossing more loaves to the ground in rapid succession.</p><p>“Hey! Who’s in there?!” I hear a voice call from outside the door.</p><p>Faust pushes her way to freedom out of a hole in the side of my knee and slithers to safety. Nadia and I lock eyes, a look of terror and realization mirroring between us. The door swings open wide and fast, slamming into one wall. Light spills in from the kitchen, and standing in the doorway with a rolling pin, ready to smash the skulls of whatever intruders were hiding away in the Larder….is Portia.</p><p>Nadia and I are frozen. I’m shirtless. Her arm is down my pants. Heat rises to my cheeks as Portia looks between our faces….and then to my pants. “…..oh!”</p><p>“PASHA! Have you found Emrys yet?? I still can’t decide on these ties!”</p><p>Portia stares wide eyed at us, her cheeks turning the most brilliant shade of red I’ve ever seen. “……..nnnnnnnnnnnope! Haven’t seen him!” she finally says as she gives the both of us a playful wink and shuts the door.</p><p>Relief takes hold of both of us—but only for a moment.</p><p>“Hey is that the larder? Good, because I am *STARVING*!” I hear from the other side of the door before it swings open, temporarily blinding us again with light, to reveal Julian. He takes one step in. Stops. Stares. And freezes in place. “Uhhhhh…h-hey you two, let me just…” he points over his shoulders. “Get out of your hair and let you…canoodle or…whatever it is you’re d—”</p><p>“Oh is that Emrys?” I hear another voice from behind Julian. Suddenly two more faces appear in the doorway—Muriel just at the top of the door frame, and Asra at Julian’s shoulder. Julian’s face is as red as Portia’s by now. Asra reaches up a hand to cover Muriel’s eyes, and though his own cheeks turn a shade of red he gives us a knowing look. “Aha. Well. I suppose we should let you just—”</p><p>“IS THAT THE COUNTESS??” another voice shouts as a set of sprinting footsteps comes barreling towards the larder. “THE PEACOCKS!”</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Our new normal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Vesuvia is on the road to recovery after The Devil nearly succeeded in merging the The Major Arcana and Material realms. But there are still lingering threats and Nadia and Emrys aren't the type to sit by while their people remain in danger. Though they had hoped for some sense of normalcy to return once The Devil had been defeated, they're slowly beginning to realize that maybe this life of monsters and demons lurking in the shadows is their new normal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>[[A/N: Not much to say here! Some pillow talk between Nadia and Emrys as they look forward to the more immediate future following her route's conclusion. I hope you enjoy!]]</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What are you thinking about, darling?”</p><p>Nadia’s voice draws me from my introspection. The room comes back into focus and one by one my senses realign with the waking world. I feel the warmth of her body against mine, tucked beneath the covers of my old bed at the shop. She traces idle circles on my chest with the tip of her nail as she rests her head against my shoulder. She smells of jasmine and wine, feels softer than the silk sheets of our bed back at the palace. In this moment I feel totally and completely at home.</p><p>“Hm,” I run my hand down her hair and curl a lock of it around my finger. “A lot of things, I guess.”</p><p>“Yes I figured that,” she says, poking her nail into the muscle of my chest. “Which is why I asked ‘what’ those lots of things were.”</p><p>“Ow,” I say, rubbing at the spot that she poked. She takes the opportunity to take hold of my hand with hers and hold it there just above my heart. “The future, I suppose. What comes next. Vlastomil and Volta were corrupted into demons. Even Valerius was on his way to becoming some dark mirror of The Hierophant. Lucio is back. The Devil is defeated. For now at least. It’s been…three months? But it still doesn’t feel like it’s over.”</p><p>“I’d been thinking the same thing of late,” said Nadia. She slid her fingers through the spaces between my knuckles and stroked the back of my hand. “There’s still Vulgora and Valdemar to deal with. Cornering them in such a way as we did their newly freed compatriots will be difficult this time around.”</p><p>“And who knows what they’re planning.” I trace the length of Nadia’s bare arm, shoulder to elbow, and back again, eventually giving rise to goosebumps across her bronze skin. I’m distracted out of my thoughts for a moment, but they return to me with purpose. “Are they still trying to help The Devil merge realms? Have their goals changed? Vesuvia may still be in danger.”</p><p>“May I tell you something that’s been on my mind?” Nadia asks. Her voice is soft. Quiet. A warm breath against my skin. </p><p>I see her gaze rise up to search for mine and I turn to meet it. “Of course. You can tell me anything.”</p><p>“What if…that is the way of things now? What if this is our new normal? City planning by day, stopping occult plots to harm the world and the people we care for by night? My memories…most of them have returned, more or less. There are still some fuzzy parts, but…I can’t think of a single time in my life before now that so much darkness has conspired in the shadows. Maybe it was always there and I just couldn’t see it.”</p><p>“But now that the veil’s been pulled back…”</p><p>“I can’t *not* see it.” She nods against my shoulder and pulls herself closer to me, eliminating what space remained between us. “So what if you’re right? What if it’s not over? Or…*ever* over?”</p><p>“It’s possible,” I say. “Likely, even.”</p><p>“*Must* you be so pragmatic, darling? You’re doing that thing again where you brood and your brow gets all crinkly right,” she poked me in the place between my eyes and for a moment I feel crosseyed. “*There*.”</p><p>I laugh silently through my nose and shake my head. “I don’t mean to be. It’s just…I may have spent half my life in the city, but the other half was spent hunting monsters like Vlastomil. Part of me feels like…I’ve been living someone else’s life here in the city but I’m slowly starting to live mine again.”</p><p>“You really think there’ll be more to this, then?” She asks, returning to her idle circling on my chest. “Til we’re old and grey and can’t be the ones to fight it anymore?”</p><p>“I do,” I say, and I feel her hand grip my clavicle for a moment out of reflexive tension. “It’s like you said. Once the veil is pulled back, you can’t help but see the things that were hiding in the shadows. They were always there. Now we’re just aware of it.”</p><p>“I suppose I better start practicing with my sabre again, then,” she says with a sigh. “Can’t go letting you do *all* the heavy lifting.”</p><p>“I could use the practice, too,” I say, turning a kiss into the top of her head. “Another thing to add to our schedule.”</p><p>“Darling, I think we’re going to need to find a djinn and wish for more hours in the day.” She tapped her nails in a thoughtful rhythm against my skin. “We’re running out of them as it is.”</p><p>I look down at her out of the corner of my eyes. I can see a quiet determination in her brow. The look she gets when she’s made a decision and intends to see it through. I feel a swell of…too many things to name them all. Pride. Love. Admiration. She’s only been awake for six months and her life has been nothing but chaos yet she doesn’t miss a step. Never loses tempo. The world around her is changing? It doesn’t phase her. She’ll adapt. I can’t help but smile.</p><p>“What’s that smile for?”</p><p>“I love you, Nadia.”</p><p>“Well yes, I know that. And I love you. But what makes you say that now?”</p><p>“I just…couldn’t ask for a better partner in all of this.”</p><p>“Of course you couldn’t, darling.” I feel Nadia shift against my side and slide to lay atop me. It’s still a new sensation to feel her in this way. Without fabric between us. Heat rushes to my face and it draws a chuckle from her lips. Nadia lays her arms atop my chest and rests her chin there. “You’d be hard pressed to find a partner like me even if we *weren’t* soulmates.”</p><p>“True,” I say as I slowly lose myself in her gaze. I find myself idly coiling a lock of her hair around my finger again. I go to release it, but she stops me with her hand, as if telling me to keep going. “Regardless…we’ll figure this out. One problem at a time.”</p><p>“First Vulgora and Valdemar,” she says with a small nod. “They’re the most immediate threat. And the only connection to The Devil that we know to still linger.”</p><p>“How do you want to go about this?”</p><p>“Hmmm….a thought for the morning, I think. There will be plenty of time to ponder on battle strategies and what occult conspiracies await us on the morrow.” She crawls forward so that her face hovers above mine. Long strands of tyrian purple fall around us like a veil, separating us from the sights and smells of the shop. I feel her warm breath against my lips. “We’ve had a long day, my love. Let us get some rest before the night grows older.” She lowers herself so that our lips brush against one another. She steals a kiss at the corner of my mouth. On my cheek. My neck. And then slides back into her place in the bed beside me. “I hope that your thoughts are quiet enough that you sleep sweetly, Emrys.”</p><p>“I’ll try,” I say, but before long I can feel the world fading away from me again. Only this time instead of the world on the other side of my gate, I feel my world in the waking realm slowly drifting off to sleep beside me. It’s not long before I join her.</p>
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